


Stand In the Rain

by xreyskywalkersolo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, alex needs a mom, alura is such a mom, shameless family fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xreyskywalkersolo/pseuds/xreyskywalkersolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The sound of the door opening rouses Alura from her thoughts, and she turns in surprise to see Alex walk out onto the balcony. Although her time on Earth has been brief, Alura knows that humans don’t tend to like rain, that they scurry for shelter when the skies open. Fragile as they are, the rain here can’t hurt them; it will not blister and burn like Krypton, but they avoid it like it does. And yet here is Alex, apparently unaware of the fat drops pelting her as she leans on the balcony rail." </p><p>Or: In which Alura is the mother Alex never had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand In the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlelamplight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelamplight/gifts).



Alura has never seen anything like storms on Earth. 

Rain on Krypton burned, poisoned by the atmosphere, and the few plant species that could weather it were gnarled and rough. Alura can vaguely remember a time when that wasn’t true, when Krypton’s rain was healthy, but that had changed by the time she and Astra were eleven years old. She would never forget the first time the rain burned against her skin, the fear that that realization had brought or the way Astra’s jaw had tightened as she’d stared up at the skies.

But she doesn’t think about that now. The rain that strokes her skin is soft and cool, and it smells fresh and clean. The scent relaxes her, reminds her that Earth is not Krypton, not a dying world, but a young and thriving one. The noise of the city is muted by the drumming of the rain against pavement, a dull roar that is oddly soothing, like the thumping of Lucy’s heart in her ear as they curl together at night. Every now and then, thunder booms overhead, the skies flashing white for a heartbeat, and for some reason Alura is reminded of her sister, powerful and wild and untamed like the snarling clouds that crackle with energy.

The sound of the door opening rouses Alura from her thoughts, and she turns in surprise to see Alex walk out onto the balcony. Although her time on Earth has been brief, Alura knows that humans don’t tend to like rain, that they scurry for shelter when the skies open. Fragile as they are, the rain here can’t hurt them; it will not blister and burn like Krypton, but they avoid it like it does. And yet here is Alex, apparently unaware of the fat drops pelting her as she leans on the balcony rail.

Alex doesn’t seem to notice Alura’s presence, closing her eyes and pulling in a slow, deep breath, like she is trying to chain herself to the earth. The rain is coming down hard enough that her grey t-shirt is already soaked, the same color as the clouds overhead. The sky snarls above them, a low rumble that sounds like the growl of some great beast, and Alex tilts her head back, letting the rain strike her face. There is a smile curling her lips, but it is tight, grim, as though being out here is painful for her. It certainly isn’t safe, with the lightning cracking across the skies; Alura opens her mouth to say as much, but then…

The sky roars above them, and Alex’s eyes snap open. She grins, wild and feral, and then her lips pull back over her teeth and she roars back. Her hands curl around the railing and grip hard enough that her knuckles turn white, as if it is the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth. As if in reply, thunder growls again, louder this time, and the rain begins to fall harder. Alex screams again, her voice rising in volume to match, a challenge and a lamentation somehow all at once. Her cry is raw and unfettered, and a phantom ache throbs in Alura’s chest. The sound reminds her of the last year on Krypton, when Astra’s absence was a weight that crushed down on her shoulders, an almost physical pain that made her want to fall to the ground and scream like a wounded animal. That heavy grief (such an inadequate word in English, she thinks briefly; barely more than a puff of air across her lips and yet it is supposed to convey the thought that the world has ended) made it an agony to look into Kara’s eyes and carry the weight of the betrayals she had committed against both Astra and her daughter. Alura chokes back a sudden sob; she remembers the sensation of her chest coming apart, the horrible, aching guilt and grief she could not let anyone see. Astra was a criminal; it did not matter that they were related, not when Astra broke the law. In the days and weeks after her twin’s sentencing, Alura had received praise from the Council and her own peers, praise for not flinching in the face of justice and giving Astra the fate she deserved. Alura’s jaw clenches at the very memory, teeth aching the way they had as she’d struggled to smile and move on before she could snap, before she could scream that a part of her (the better part, the part that was noble and brave and true) died that day when she sent her sister to hell. Even so many years later, the memory is painfully sharp, and for a moment it threatens to make her knees give way beneath her.

There is something painfully beautiful in the look of rapture and grief on Alex’s face as she stands beneath the rain, strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. Her knuckles are still white on the railing, but her shoulders are relaxed. Beneath the crisp smell of ozone in the skies and the fresh dampness of the rain, Alura can smell the slight salty tang that she has come to associate with tears. Her chest twists, the way it always did when Kara would cry as a child, but she doesn’t dare to reach out. Alex is not breaking—or perhaps she has already and this is how the pieces are put back together. Alex has had enough taken by her mother, the childhood she was never given and the love she was denied; Alura cannot find it in herself to breach the distance between them, even if she is close enough to touch Alex’s shoulder without straightening her arm. Alex set the boundary; she chose how close to be, and Alura will respect that, standing here beneath the rain. Nevertheless, there is a strange sort of intimacy on the small balcony, as if they are insulated from the world beyond the railing. Alura has, for a split second, the briefest impression of wings, curving up into the sky and extending to shelter them. Where the image came from, she doesn’t know. Another life, perhaps, in a universe far from their own. 

The rain has changed to a soft, gentle downfall, the kind that Alura has often fallen asleep to as it beats against the windowpanes, Lucy’s head a comforting weight on her chest as they breathe in sync. Alex is still standing with her head tipped back, but her hands hang limp at her sides now, and as Alura watches, she takes a deep breath and then rights herself. For the first time since this all began, Alex looks at Alura, and there is something both defensive and exposed in her eyes, as if she is daring Alura to say something, to judge, but terrified that she will. Alura’s heart aches in her chest, and not for the first time, she feels a stab of anger toward Eliza, toward the world, for making Alex so heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Alura does not say a word as she approaches Alex, simply offering her daughter a soft, gentle smile and lifting a hand to push a lock of sodden hair behind Alex’s ear. Alex’s chin quivers slightly as she sucks in a shaky breath, and then she steps forward and wraps Alura in her arms, ducking her head beneath the Kryptonian’s chin. Alura folds Alex into a tight embrace, one hand coming up to protectively cradle the back of her head as her other rubs slow circles on her back. Alex leans heavily on her, and Alura is reminded of the nights where Kara, still small enough to fit in her lap, would fall asleep in her arms as she sang.

Alex is, of course, much taller than Kara ever was on Krypton, but Alura easily scoops her up, adjusting slightly until Alex’s head is resting comfortably against her shoulder. Alex doesn’t object, but Alura isn’t sure if that’s due to exhaustion or emotional turmoil. She hopes it’s the former. “You need a change of clothes, my precious one,” Alura murmurs with a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “As do I, I suppose.”

“’m sleepy….” Alex mumbles as she nuzzles Alura’s shoulder.

“I know. But we are dripping onto your floors.” Alura quickly carries Alex into the bathroom, where she gently sets her down and then strips out of her own wet clothes. Alex whines in protest, reaching for her, but Alura heads into the bedroom to fetch some spare clothes, pausing briefly to don a pair of her sister’s sleep pants and a matching shirt. “Do you need help dressing, Alex?” she asks as she steps back into the bathroom. 

“No…” Alex stands up and yanks her shirt off, grabbing for the dry one with fumbling fingers. Alura waits patiently as she finishes changing and then reaches for a towel, rubbing Alex’s hair dry. Alex lets out a soft sigh of contentment, and the remaining tension in her shoulders eases as Alura massages her scalp through the fabric.

Alex’s head is drooping by the time Alura finishes toweling her own hair dry, eyes almost closed as she leans her head against the bathroom wall, and again Alura remembers Kara as a child, stubbornly insisting that she wasn’t sleepy even as her eyes continued to drag shut. With a fond smile and a kiss to still-damp hair, Alura scoops her up again, carrying her over to the bed. Alex yawns against her neck as she pulls the covers back with one hand, and Alura carefully tucks the young human in, stroking errant strands of hair from her eyes. “Mom, stay,” Alex slurs, reaching for Alura, more asleep than awake at this point. 

Alura swears she can feel her heart melt in her chest, and it’s almost enough to make her cry. She has not been a mother for many years, and even though she and Kara have finally reconciled, her little girl is not so little anymore. Alura had never expected to be in this position again, with her daughter reaching for her and asking her to stay, but here is Alex, and the thought of refusing never even crosses her mind.

“Move over, precious one.” Alura waits until Alex has scooted back enough before slipping beneath the covers. Alex instantly curls into her arms, one of her own slung over Alura’s waist as her head nestles snugly against the Kryptonian’s shoulder. She yawns again, and Alura presses another kiss to the crown of her head. She can’t remember the last time she felt so content. 

“Love you, Mom,” Alex mutters against her shoulder, voice thick with sleep.

“I love you, Alex.” Alura runs a hand through Alex’s dark hair, heart full to bursting. Alex hums softly, the corners of her lips ticking upwards, and a moment later, her breathing evens out.

The universe has been cruel to her, there is no denying that. Alura has made mistake after mistake, banished her own sister to hell and caused the death of their entire world (a death that was not a question of _if_ , but _when_ ; she knows this and yet there are still nights when the guilt clogs her throat, constricts her heart with suffocating force) and sent her daughter off alone to an alien world with a burden no child should ever have had to bear. And yet here she is, in a world where Kara and Astra are both alive and well, where they have not only forgiven her, somehow, but have found love. As if Rao had not granted her enough miracles, there is also Lucy, who has fallen as deeply in love with Alura as Alura has with her.

And there is Alex; brave, loyal, protective, incredibly loving Alex. Alex, a gift Alura never expected; Alex, who needs her in a way she never dreamed of being needed again, now that her own daughter has grown up without her. For a heartbeat, Alura wonders if it is selfish, to love Alex for this, but then Alex snuggles closer in her sleep and Alura knows there is nothing selfish about it, not when her chest aches with love and she knows she would rip apart mountains to keep this brave, broken woman safe. 

That is, after all, what mothers do.


End file.
